


Nameday Blues

by alh1971



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Birthday Blowjob, F/M, Fellatio, Improbable scenario, Oral Sex, PWP, sansan smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-20 17:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4795259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alh1971/pseuds/alh1971
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Sandor's nameday, and he's down and out. Perhaps a "gift" from a certain little bird will cheer him up...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Early morning  
...  
…  
Today was Sandor’s nameday. Not that he gave a rat’s arse, really, but it just so happened that it coincided with his day off. 

In the past, if he was so inclined and had the luxury of time, he would “celebrate” with drink, fight, and/or fuck, not necessarily in that order, and not necessarily all together. 

He mused, depressed, as he sat in his room. He certainly wouldn’t mind a fuck, as it had been a long time since he’d had a woman…but strangely enough, he had no desire to seek out a whore. There was only one female that he wanted, one with creamy skin and a thick headful of long red hair. But one he knew he could never have. 

He sighed, disgusted as his cock hardened. He refused to take himself in hand - at least right now. All bets were off in the lonely dark of the night. 

Grunting at his weakness, he stood. Out to the practice yard. He’d take out some of his frustration on the so-called sers and soldiers. 'That’d take the edge off,' he reckoned.

...

Mid afternoon  
...  
….  
He returned to his room, tired and sore, but still agitated and morose. Splurging in a rare act of self-indulgence, he had ordered an oversized tub and hot water to soothe his aching muscles. Perhaps after a soak (or as much of one as he was able to achieve given his stature), he could relax....

...

Late afternoon  
...  
…  
Stomping to the kitchens, muscles less achy, but as wound up as ever, he scared the shite out of a serving wench by demanding food and drink. She rushed to comply as if the Stranger were at her heels. Smirking, he strode off cradling the loaf of bread, cheese, and sausage under his arm, while his hand clasped tightly around a large flask of ale. His sword arm he kept free, as always. 

He was going to return to his room to eat when a thought entered his head. The little bird often went out to the gardens during the day. On impulse, he headed out to a seldom-used corner that had a stone bench. The area was elevated and so would allow him a decent view of most of the area. 

Sitting down and spreading his makeshift picnic beside him, he grabbed the bread, roughly splitting it down the middle to make room for a hunk of cheese and sausage. He munched his lunch, occasionally swigging on the ale, until he filled his belly. Disappointed he had not caught sight of the girl, he stood, roughly brushing crumbs off his torso and thighs. 

A twig snapped behind him, and he spun, caught unawares. 

It was the little bird. She had crept up behind the bench, through a small clearing in a hedge. She was blushing.

“Um, I apologize. I did not mean to startle you.”

Embarrassed, he gruffed, “You didn’t startle me, girl. I was just leaving.”

She continued blushing. He noticed she was fidgeting. She looked maddeningly sweet and beautiful. It only served to irritate and further ratchet up his agitation.

“Well, out with it, now. I haven’t got all day.” Actually, he did, but he was in no mood to play games. Now that he laid eyes on her, it only served to fuel his lust and, therefore, frustration. 

She appeared abashed, but nonetheless raised her eyes to his, which surprised him. 

“I noticed you weren’t in court. I had heard Joffrey talking about how today was your day off, and…,” her voice trailed off and he noticed that her skin had reddened considerably.

He took a step closer and bent over her.

“And…?” he growled.

She squirmed, continuing to blush prettily. “Ser Trant mentioned today was your nameday, and that you’d, um, be…”

“What? Spit it out girl,” he ordered.

She whispered, “You’d be at the Street of Silk.”

He threw back his head and barked out a harsh laugh. “Hardly! And the whorehouses in Flea Bottom are more to my taste anyways.”

She bit her lip and took a deep breath, seemingly steeling herself. “Are you going there? Tonight, I mean?”

He was impressed that she was able to look him in the eye and ask such a bold question. He couldn’t help but play with her a bit, though.

“And why would an innocent little bird such as yourself want to know such a thing, hmm?”

Her eyes narrowed and he thought for an instant that he saw a hint of wolf in the girl. 

“Because mayhap I have a name day gift I want to give you,” she blurted out. 

His mouth dropped open in surprise as she darted away, running as fast as her legs could carry her. 

...

Later that night  
...  
…  
Sandor was back in his room, sitting in the lone chair at the small corner table, on his way to getting pissed on red wine when he heard a light tapping on his door. Although he had no candles or a fire lit in his room, he could see well enough with the bright light of the moon that shone through his window. 

Pleasantly buzzed, he wasn’t near to being drunk and was able to stride a straight path to his door, which he unceremoniously yanked open, startling the person on the other side.

Although cloaked and hooded, he knew immediately who it was. He grasped her by her arms and pulled her in, causing her to gasp in surprise. He poked his head out and glanced both directions down the hall. Thank the gods they were alone!

He closed the door and pushed her up against it. He grasped her hood and threw it back as he hissed in her face, “Are you out of your mind, girl? What in Stranger’s name are you doing here?” he demanded. 

She straightened and threw back her head in defiance as she looked him in the eye. 

“I told you, I had a nameday gift I wanted to give you,” she ground out. 

He barked out a grim chuckle and ran his hand through his hair. “A nameday gift, aye. And just what would a little bird want to give the Hound, huh?”

He turned his back on her and went back to his chair, allowing his bulk to fall heavily, causing the wood to creak. He took a gulp of wine and roughly wiped his lips with his arm. He sat back and appraised her with a smirk on his face. 

“Well. You have the cheek to come here and bestow the loyal dog with a gift, so be done with it and then get back to your cage.”

Legs spread wide, he stretched and folded his arms across his chest. He kept the smirk on his face, daring her to make her move while expecting her to bolt at any minute. 

She stood staring at him with an indecipherable expression on her face and then after several moments turned and barred his door.

His smirk was suddenly wiped off his face.

She spun and let her cloak fall to the floor as she slowly walked to him. 

His mouth dried as he noted that she was only wearing a thin shift and given the imprint of her hardened nipples and triangle of hair between her legs, nothing else.

“What are you up to, girl?” he croaked.

She ignored him as she sauntered to his bed, where she picked up his rough pillow and turned back to him.

He swallowed a lump in his throat as she dropped the pillow on the floor, between his legs. Without warning, she gripped her shift and quickly yanked it over her head and tossed it to the side. 

He blinked. What in the seven hells was happening? He surreptitiously pinched his arm, hard. No, he wasn’t dreaming. His eyes widened as she began touching her breasts, tweaking her nipples as she moaned.

Who was this temptress? Surely it wasn’t the innocent little bird, what in the fucking….?

His thoughts were disrupted as she knelt between his thighs and began unlacing his breeches. Although her intent was bold, her fingers fumbled as she nervously tugged on his clothes. Her awkwardness brought him back to his senses.

“Sansa,” he warned. “I don’t know what game you think you’re playing-“

She interrupted him. “This is no game. I came to give you my gift.” Her chin jutted out and an eyebrow raised in challenge. 

He gulped but grabbed her hands, which continued to try tug down his pants. “You can’t come into a man’s room and disrobe and not expect—“

“Oh, I think I know what to expect…Sandor.”

His cock, already rock hard, let out a dribble of cum when she said his name. He threw back his head and groaned. His head snapped back up, however, as her efforts were finally rewarded and his member sprang free.

“Little bir-“ he hissed when she bent forward and gave a kitten lick to his cock head. 

She inexpertly gripped his shaft with one hand and looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“I’m not…Tell me what to do.”

Moaning in his throat, he gasped out, “Are you sure?” His ability to control himself was on thin ice. Once she consented verbally to him, there was no turning back as far as he was concerned. 

She nodded, whispering a soft, “Yes.”

That was all he needed. 

“Grasp it with both hands right there.” She complied, but he covered her hands with his own, showing her the pressure that was needed. “Hard, like that. Don’t worry, you won’t hurt me….Ahh…Oh gods…pull back on the foreskin too.” He then began to mime a back and forth motion for her, which she quickly began to simulate quite well. 

He moaned again and gritted out, “If you want to, you could put your mouth—“

He bit his tongue as she obeyed. She manipulated the foreskin and then sucked in the entire head. She bobbed up and down a few times before she sat up. 

“Like that?” 

Oh gods, she was going to be the death of him! “Mmm, yes,” he strangled out. “You can also use your tongue,” he hinted. 

She didn’t disappoint. 

He cursed himself that he hadn’t lit a candle, but at least the moonlight illuminated her where she knelt. He could see her hesitantly lick his shaft up and down while clumsily dipping the tip in and out of her tiny mouth as best she could. He was huge, and so she struggled to fit him all the way in, but what she lacked in skill she certainly made up for in enthusiasm. She even moaned appreciatively as she began sucking his cock in earnest, allowing it to thrust in deeper. He grit his teeth and gripped the armrests of the chair, which he accidentally cracked in his effort to avoid plunging down her throat. 

He was beyond turned on. He had never been so aroused in his entire miserable existence. Here was the object of his desire, the Maiden made flesh, kneeling between his legs and sucking on his cock like it was a delectable confection. So clouded by a haze of lust, he didn’t notice the telltale tightening of his balls until it was too late.

He began spurting, his head thrown back in agonized pleasure, unable to stop himself. On some level, he knew the girl must be horrified to have his seed shooting down her throat, but good gods, he couldn’t help it.

“Little bird,” he apologetically moaned. As the first wave of ecstasy abated, electric pulses made him cry out as she resolutely clamped back down on his still turgid member and continued to suck down his juices.

“Uh…oh, gods damn,” he cursed, gently pulling her head off his too sensitive cock. 

She gave him a shy smile. “Did I…did I do it correctly? I know I didn’t…”

He bent down and grasped her by her shoulders, pulling her up to him and crashing his lips to hers. Not minding the smell and taste of his own seed, he ravished her mouth. 

Pulling away for a quick breath, he gasped, “You did fucking amazing, little bird. Where did you-?“

“Shae,” she blurted out. “I asked her, and she…showed me. I wanted to give you a special gift for your nameday. I didn’t want you going to the… brothels. I wanted it to be with me…I…She swore she wouldn’t tell anyone!”

He chuckled at her nervous babbling and kissed her forehead. “Aye little one, it was an amazing gift. One that this dog didn’t deserve. But, fuck, you made this a nameday I won’t soon forget, you best believe it!”

He must have said the magic words to calm her because she sat up and smiled mischievously. 

He felt his cock twitch in response. 

She leaned forward and whispered in his good ear, “That’s not the only gift I have planned for you.”

His heart thundered in his chest. Just what in the fuck did the little bird have planned now?

…

…  
TBC?  
I know, Sansa is seriously, way crazy OOC. In my mind, she's aged up and therefore a bit more confident. :0


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's POV (Earlier that day)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give Sansa's backstory and POV to help lend more credibility/plausibility. ; ) I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2

Sansa’s POV

…  
Morning of Sandor’s Nameday  
…  
…  
Sansa immediately noticed the Hound’s absence in Joffrey’s court, which although disappointing, in and of itself wasn’t unusual given that he was granted occasional leave from duty. However, her ears perked up when Meryn Trant and the boy king began loudly discussing the scarred Kingsguard. 

Ser Trant's ugly laugh grated her ears. “Aye, it’s the bastard’s nameday today. I reckon as soon as he falls to the bottom of a bottle of Dornish red, he’ll be seeking a suck and fuck on the Street of Silk.”

Joffrey giggled, his high-pitched falsetto strangely contrasted with Trant’s baritone. He mock shuddered, “Ugh, I pity the poor whore who gets the dog’s coin.”

The knight chuckled, “Never fear. They don’t have to look on his ugly face with his meat in their mouth. Or he’ll take them from behind, I’ve heard. Less chance they’ll run screaming.”

They both snickered, along with several of the guards and members of the court as they continued to mock the absent man. 

Sansa didn’t laugh. It wasn’t amusing to her. 

Instead, she felt—altogether differently about Sandor Clegane. 

First and foremost, she felt a fierce protectiveness towards the battle-hardened warrior, her sense of fairness balking at their jape at his expense. 

Secondly, and no less passionate, she felt a deep burning jealousy. This emotion confused her but given its intensity, couldn’t be denied. With all of her heart, she did not want him seeking his pleasure with a prostitute. For some reason, it caused a deep, primitive and feminine fury directed at her unknown…rival? She sickened at images of him engaged in the pleasures with faceless women that Joffrey and Trant described. Shocked, she instead began imagining herself performing such acts.

Strange sensations overwhelmed her as she pictured herself taking the Hound in her mouth. She had seen male members before: her brothers, as well times in which she had inadvertently been exposed to strange men, such as the time she beheld a stableboy relieving himself and a recent incident in which she walked into the kitchens and spotted a serving wench on her knees fondling a Lannister soldier. 

However, she knew given Clegane’s stature, his manhood was likely much larger than the ones she had seen. She shivered as she thought about holding it, sucking on it…having it between her legs. She gave a small gasp at the inadvertent pulsing in her secret place and the resulting rush of slippery wetness that soaked her smallclothes. 

She squirmed and swallowed thickly, which caused Shae to turn and frown in concern.

“My lady, are you feeling well? Your face is quite flushed.” She placed a hand on Sansa’s forehead. “And you’re clammy with sweat.”

Sansa nodded, thinking quickly. “Yes, I…feel a bit fevered. Perhaps I should return to my chambers.”

Shae agreed and begged apologies to the king, stating that her lady appeared to be unwell.

Joffrey had glared momentarily but quickly waved her off, much as he would a fly.

Relieved, Sansa had returned to her room with her handmaiden. As soon as the door was locked, she turned and interrupted Shae, who moved to touch her forehead again.

“Shae. I…I am sorry for my deceit, but…I am not ill.” She blushed and bit her lip as the other woman cocked her head in confusion.

“My lady…I do not understand. You are—“

Sansa interrupted her. “You must teach me.” She paused as her cheeks flamed red. “I…want to know how to please a man.” Noticing the other woman’s eyes narrowing, she began speaking rapidly, to stave off any refusal. 

“I want to know how to bring pleasure to a man…with my mouth, with my hands and body. I don’t know. Er,…I mean, I of course I know, but…see, I want to…”

Her handmaiden’s knowing smirk and quiet chuckle stopped her rambling. 

“What? Why are you laughing at me?” She huffed indignantly. 

Shae circled her slowly. “Ah, hmm. Let me see…this wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain warrior who wasn’t in court today, would it?”

Sansa’s blush deepened in embarrassment. She opened her mouth in an automatic, knee jerk denial but stopped herself. She needed Shae’s help—her advice and expertise in seduction. She had no one else to turn to and she absolutely could not abide Sandor Clegane getting his needs met in the brothels. Not when she wanted to be the one…

“Yes,” she whispered. “It would.”

Shae threw back her head and laughed heartily. “I knew it! I’ve been watching you both, you know. I see the way you two look at each other when you think no one else notices, but Shae sees everything!” The handmaiden and former whore gave her a smug smile, arms folded over her chest.

Sansa frowned at her. “Yes, well, you’re very clever, but I need your help! They spoke today of the Hound visiting the brothels on his nameday.”

Shae raised her eyebrow but said nothing. 

Sansa stammered, “And--I want to learn what it is the, um…ladies do to pleasure the men that visit them. How they…” Sansa’s voice trailed off as she lost her nerve.

Thankfully, Shae took pity on her. “I can show you, Sansa. But is this something you truly want to follow through with? Clegane is not the kind of man you can toy with. You go to him, there will be no turning back, as he will not abide teasing. I’ve seen the way he hungers for you.” At this, she bent forward and whispered in Sansa's ear. “He wants you. Badly. And if you offer yourself to him, make no mistake. He will take you. And once he has you, I have no doubt that he will consider you to be his and his alone.”

Sansa gulped and once again, her lady parts tingled and ached in anticipation. She cleared her throat. “Yes, I know he will not…um, take kindly to any perceived falsehoods…but,” and here she flushed again, “Do you really he think he wants me? He often seems so angry with me, and says such mean things…”

Shae chuckled again, “With you, the Hound’s bark is worse than his bite, you best believe. He barks warnings to you, but if you look beyond his harshness, he tries to bestow wisdom in his own way.” She paused, relishing how Sansa hung on her every word, “Besides, as I mentioned, he looks at you with a ravenous hunger. A starved dog held back from devouring a very…” She paused and licked her lips, “Juicy bone.” 

Sansa’s eyes widened. Her mind boggled at her handmaiden’s words but the thought of Sandor…devouring her made her dizzy with desire. “Oh-- I surely wouldn’t know what to do. I don’t even know where to start.”

Shae pulled her into a hug and petted her hair. “Fear not, dear girl. I can educate you, as I believe these are things you should learn sooner rather than later.” She pulled Sansa back and stared her in the eye to emphasize her seriousness. “Here in King’s Landing, knowledge is power. It can save your very life if you are clever. You understand?”

Sansa stared back. Starting with Lady’s death, but especially after with her father’s execution and Joffrey’s increasingly violent cruelties, she had had a very fast and hard education indeed. She nodded at Shae, who hummed her approval.

“Okay, good. First, we talk about how you should approach a man such as the Hound. You must not show fear, as he will not hurt you. You should…”

..  
Later that afternoon  
..  
…  
As Sansa combed the castle’s grounds, and later the garden as she sought the Hound, she reflected back on Shae’s instruction.

Knowing that her mother and septa would gasp at the topic of her tutelage, she was embarrassed but did not regret seeking instruction from her handmaid. She had tutored her not only on the more graphic aspects of man-woman relations, but also subtleties, such as what to wear (or not to wear, as she suggested omitting smallclothes as part of a seduction), how to walk, how to touch herself in an enticing manner. She had Sansa practice repeatedly, until she was somewhat comfortable with her nudity. However, when it came to…oral pleasure she still was not quite sure of herself. 

Shae reassured her, “No matter, every man is different. While there are some universals that should be done with all of them, it is always a good idea to ask what your man desires. He can instruct you.” And here she paused with a salacious grin, “Clegane will appreciate your inquisitiveness, trust that.”

Another issue Sansa was concerned about was the pain of actually having her maidenhead taken. Shae had quizzed Sansa mercilessly about her desire to consummate a physical relationship with the Hound and what that might mean for her politically, that it would be important to be careful not to conceive, how to properly use moontea, and on and on, until Sansa finally cut her off and asserted that she hadn’t quite decided yet, but still wanted to include that part of her education. Just in case…

Finally, Shae capitulated and had assured her that if a man took time to prepare a woman, the pain would be minimal, though Sansa still worried about Sandor’s size. 

Shae had concurred. “Yes, I am…convinced that he will be large, but remember what I said. He will not harm you.”

“He will not harm me, he will not harm me, he will not…," she repeated in her head as she spied the object of her hunt sitting on a bench in a secluded area of the garden.

As he stood to rise, she crept towards him hesitantly but broke her stealth when she stepped on a twig. She could tell that she surprised him by his gruff response, but she remembered her teacher’s words: to approach him with a confidence that showed on her exterior even if she felt shaky inside. However, after she had interjected her intent to give him his nameday “gift” she had gotten completely flustered and bolted as if pursued by a pack of shadowcats.

…  
By the time she had finally worked up enough nerve to go to his room, her heart was pounding out of her chest. Although she wore a heavy cloak and deep hood, she was terrified of discovery. Also what if he rejected her? What if he wasn’t there and had already left to go to the brothels, what if…?” 

She forced herself to knock and began to feel faint when she heard his heavy footsteps. And then, she just stood and blinked as he yanked the door open and immediately pulled her inside. 

True to Shae’s warnings, he growled and barked at her, but she now noticed his eyes glinting in hunger. His eyes betrayed him. Seeing his desire made her bold, and she felt a surge of confidence as his sarcastic smile was wiped off his face when she bolted the door.

And then, she found herself undressing in front of him, touching herself, and gods, undoing his pants and holding his huge member, taking him in her mouth. It was as if she were in a wild, exciting dream. Despite Shae’s instructions, her hands still trembled and she was unsure of herself. But he seemed more than happy to help instruct her and she was encouraged by his response! She could feel him shaking, coiled like a spring, heard the crack of wood as his massive hands splintered the armrests in his efforts to hold himself back. 

And then…his hot seed was spurting down her throat! She sucked down every drop, as Shae instructed her to do, as she taught her that was something you did for a man you cared about, to show as an act of devotion. She kept sucking on his shaft after his release, but he stopped her and pulled her up to his mouth to kiss her. And oh! What a kiss! Now she understood what a kiss truly was--it was not a chaste thing at all, but hot, messy, and oh so exciting…

When she mentioned her intention of bestowing him with another “gift” he looked shocked but she nonetheless felt his member twitch in response. 

She smiled wickedly at him, emboldened by the awe in his eyes, and silently agreed with his sentiments: she had every intention to make this a nameday he would not soon forget…

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking 1 to 2 more chapters more. I'm having fun with this one...Thanks for reading and all of the kind reviews/kudos left for the first chapter!


End file.
